


With Golden Hearts

by ADreamingSongbird



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: College AU, Gen, M/M, Tien Lives, each chapter stands alone, tags will be updated as new characters and things come up, this'll be a series of oneshots (mostly chronological)!!, updates will be sporadic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamingSongbird/pseuds/ADreamingSongbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bitterness of strong coffee, the existential 4:00 AM questions, the frantic regret before term papers are due...</p><p>Ah, yes.  College life.  Adolin doesn't even LIKE coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Adolin just wants hot chocolate

There are many things in this world that Adolin Kholin doesn’t understand, even now in his second year of university.  One, the intricacies of the stock market.  Two, how to decide on a primary weapon in the case of a zombie apocalypse when there are _so many good options_.  Three, the physics problem set due next week.

And four, his roommate, one Kaladin Stormblessed.

The dude is just… perpetually grumpy.  And he doesn’t talk much.  It’s not that he’s a bad roommate—he keeps everything neat and organized, takes out the trash without complaint when it’s his turn, and isn’t loud at all—it’s just that sometimes Adolin feels like he hates him.  Or, no, he just hates people, fun, and nice things in general.  Honestly, he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if he got back from history discussion (his last class of the day on Tuesdays and Thursdays) and found him listening to My Chemical Romance or Evanescence and wearing thick, dark eyeliner or something.

(Renarin laughed long and hard when Adolin told him that, over the phone last week.  The memory still makes him grin wryly to himself as he walks back across campus toward the dormitory.)

Leaves crunch underfoot as he takes the shortcut across Taln Square, the big grassy field in the middle of campus.  It’s on a slight hill, with trees dotting the upper side of the slope, and a small fountain at the lower end; the Square is the most common site for campus activities and festivals and whatnot.  On warmer days, it’s also many students’ favorite spot to sit and read or study or play Frisbee or anything, really.

“I should’ve gotten a hot chocolate before leaving,” Adolin mutters to himself as the wind picks up, sending his scarf flapping.  There was a café along his route, back near the building where he has his physics lectures, but like an idiot he figured he was fine and could just walk the mile back to his dorm, no sweat.

Well.  Hah.  No sweat, all right.  _Dammit_ , it’s cold.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes, and he fishes it out with half-frozen fingers.  It’s a text from Renarin.

renren ♥: How did lunch go?

Adolin freezes.

 _“Shit_!”

The hissed expletive is loud enough that a fellow student passing by looks at him with a mixture of bewilderment and sympathy, but he doesn’t pay her more than a passing glance.  What’s the time—oh, as if it’s anywhere _near_ lunchtime.  It’s past five.  That’s when his physics lecture lets out.  And under Renarin’s text are three missed calls from Danlan.  Shit shit shit shit.

He blows out a breath, runs his hand through his hair agitatedly, and composes a text to his brother. 

adolin: well  
adolin: actually  
adolin: i have decided to take a break from dating for a while

Then he stuffs his phone back into the depths of his jacket pocket and keeps walking, narrowing his eyes against the wind as it blows into his face.  Storming wind and storming lunch dates and _storming finals week_ , coming up in just two weeks… ugh.

When he reaches the sidewalk and has to wait for traffic to pass before crossing the street, he checks his phone again.

renren ♥: …you forgot, didn’t you.

adolin: ive been BUSY!!!! at noon i was actually in the library studying for my philosophy final!!

The traffic light is red and the blinky hand has turned into a walk light when he looks up again, though as he starts to walk it starts blinking again, indicating that it’s about to change back, so he picks up the pace and jogs across the street.  Renarin’s already judging him for missing the date with Danlan, there’s no need to add “I was too busy texting and got hit by a car” to the list of things for his brother to tease him about.  It’s already long enough, thanks Renarin.

Once he’s on a straight stretch of sidewalk, he pulls out the phone again, glancing up every now and then to make sure he isn’t about to walk into a pole or anything.

renren ♥: Haha I find it kind of funny that I remembered you had a date today and you didn’t.  
renren ♥: …I guess I should work on my priorities.

adolin: dont YOU have finals to prepare for, you tiny high-schooler????  
adolin: stop making fun of me and go study

renren ♥: We tiny high-schoolers don’t have them until the week after you big university folks.  
renren ♥: And I would, but you make it so easy!

adolin: i swear. one of these days im gonna delete the heart emoji by your name you little twerp  
adolin: im too lazy to do it atm but one day

renren ♥: <3

Scoffing, he shakes his head and once again stuffs the phone into his pocket.  His dorm is just around this corner, thank the heavens, and he can get out of this biting December wind.  There’s hot chocolate powder in his room, on the shelf above his desk, and there might be some marshmallows left, too…  It won’t be as good without whipped cream, but at this point he’d take the bitterest black coffee, so long as it’s hot.

He breezes on through the main lobby, sighing in relief as the warmth in the building hits him, and takes the stairs two at a time all the way up to the third floor.  As he pulls open the door leading from the stairwell to his hall, he fishes around in his other pocket for his keys, already dreaming of that hot chocolate he’s about to make himself.  Mmm…

When he opens his door, his roommate glances at him, then returns his gaze to the ceiling.  He’s lying on his back on his bed, one leg propped up, dark hair fanned out across his pillow.

“Mm-hmm,” he says, and Adolin blinks.  “Hey, I gotta go.  My roommate just got back.  I’ll call you later.”  Oh, he realizes.  Kaladin is on the phone.  He swallows the greeting he’d been about to halfheartedly offer and quietly closes the door and sets his bag down by his bed.  “Yeah, yeah,” Kaladin says, and surprisingly there’s a soft chuckle in his voice.  “Love you too.  Okay, bye.”

He hangs up and then drops the phone on the bed next to him.  Then he doesn’t move, still staring at the ceiling, until the silence grows too awkward for Adolin to stomach it.

“So,” he begins, awkward as all hell as he slips out of his jacket and tosses his phone onto his bed in case Renarin texts him again.  Where does his natural charm _go_ when talking to this stupid boy?  “Friend of yours?  …Girlfriend? Syl?”

Kaladin casts him a slightly annoyed glance.  “Little brother,” he corrects.  For a moment Adolin’s heart sinks—the conversation is going to stop there, and he’ll have to drink his hot chocolate tempered with a thick, uncomfortable silence—but then, to his surprise, his roommate continues.  “His name is Tien and he’s upset because he just finished catching up on Gravity Falls and there’s no more of it.”

There’s a _smile_ on his face.  Adolin blinks before he realizes he was staring—this is probably the first time he’s seen Kaladin smile, what is _happening_ —and hastily turns away to grab a mug, busying himself with hot chocolate.  “Gravity Falls was good,” he says, spooning cocoa powder into the bottom.  “I binged it with my little brother last time I went home.”

“You have a brother?”  Kaladin’s voice is laced with mild interest, and almost spitefully Adolin thinks _Hah!  So you_ do _have a personality sometimes!_

“Yeah,” he says. “His name’s Renarin.  He’s three years younger—well, okay, right now only two, because his birthday was last week and mine’s not til February, but for the majority of the year, he’s three years younger than me.”

“Tien’s two years younger than me,” Kaladin says, sitting up.  “Is that hot chocolate mix?”

“Yes,” Adolin says, eying his box and wondering if saying _and you can’t have any_ would shut down the conversation.  Probably would.  Damn, he’s nearly out.

“…I’ll trade you some whipped cream for a few spoonfuls,” Kaladin offers after a moment of silence, obviously spent weighing his options.  Adolin whirls around.

“You have whipped cream?”

An arm waves lazily at the fridge by the door.  “Yeah, Syl brought it over to have with the last of my strawberries on the weekend, while you were out.  With Janala.  I think.”

Adolin snorts.  “Janala and I broke up two _months_ back,” he informs his roommate.  “If your whipped cream is that old, I don’t think I want it.  Which mug do you want me to use?”

“The one on the left,” Kaladin says, looking over to the shelf where his dishes are.  “…Thanks.  And no, I meant this past weekend.  Whoever you were with then.”  His disparaging tone of voice says all Adolin needs to know about his opinion of Adolin’s love life.  Which apparently is not very high.

“Danlan,” he says, even though Kaladin hadn’t asked.  “And no, before you ask, I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again, either.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask,” Kaladin mutters.

The silence returns for a long, long moment while Adolin waits for the water in the kettle to boil.  Then, not wanting things to go back to just being awkward, he steels himself for more of this odd conversation and asks, “How do _you_ do it?”

Kaladin looks up from his phone, raising one dark eyebrow.  “Do what?”

“Keep a steady girlfriend!”  Adolin huffs, kind of embarrassed to be stooping so low as to ask his grumpy-ass roommate for advice, but… he seems to be doing _something_ right.  “You and Syl have been together for months, right?”

For a second, Kaladin’s face is overtaken by a look of pure surprise before he bursts out laughing.  Adolin frowns.  “You think I’m dating _Syl?_ ”  He picks up his phone then, amusement dancing in his eyes.  “Stormfather, she’ll get a kick out of _that_ for sure.  Hah!  Dating Syl!”

“You mean—you two _aren’t_ dating?” Adolin asks confusedly.  “But…”

“We’re not,” Kaladin snorts.  “She’s my best friend.  –But don’t think that means she’s available,” he adds, narrowing his eyes for a moment.  “She could kick your ass for herself if you tried anything, but I’ll save her the trouble and tell you now.  Don’t try flirting with her, not only is she incredibly not interested in romance, but also just.  Don’t.”

“I’m not!”  Adolin holds his hands up in surrender.  “I’m…”  He takes a breath, then pushes it out and announces the same thing he told Renarin.  “I’m actually taking a break from the romance department for a while.  At least until the end of finals.”

“Really,” Kaladin says dryly.  “I’m sure the rest of the school will be relieved to hear that.”

“Oh, shut up,” Adolin tells him, then starts peering around.  “Now where did I put the damn marshmallows…”  They aren’t on the shelf where he thought they were, but he _knows_ he didn’t finish that bag!  There were around ten left!

“Top shelf above the closet.”  Kaladin is pointing, when he turns around to look.  “You tossed them up there when you were cleaning last week.”

“Oh, right.”  Adolin pushes his chair, a nice comfortable spinning one, over from the desk to the closet door.  It’s not the _safest_ thing in the world, using a spinning desk chair as a step stool, but hey, what’s life without living on the edge a little?

(If he falls and breaks his arm on the edge of the desk or something, there is only a very slim chance that Renarin won’t add that to his list of “Stupid Ways My Brother Has Injured Himself”.  Currently that list is topped by the time that Adolin, a few years ago, tried to ride a unicycle around the kitchen while making dinner, just to see if he could.  For the record, he could not.  But he’d almost done it!  He’d only fallen on the stove while trying to add the last spices to the soup.)

As if prompted by the thought, Adolin’s phone starts to ring just as he’s reaching precariously up into the shelf.  He groans, cursing his past self for having just thrown the marshmallow bag up here to dust the bottom shelf last week, and stretches to reach for it.  “Could you see who that is for me?”

Kaladin rolls over and picks up Adolin’s phone.  “It’s from ‘ _Ren-Ren-Heart_ ’,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

Honestly, _why_ are these shelves so deep?  His fingers are just brushing the bag.  “That’d be Renarin,” he mutters.  “I’ll just… call him back in a little bit.”  He pauses and looks over.  “Unless you wanna answer for me, anyway.”

To his surprise, Kaladin shrugs and swipes his thumb over the screen. “Hi,” he says.  “This is Adolin’s roommate, he can’t get to the phone right now because he’s—“

“No, no!” Adolin hisses.  “Don’t _tell_ him!”

“—standing on his rolling chair trying to find the marshmallows he threw on the top shelf last week.  Anyway, what can I do for you?”

Adolin groans, letting his head thump against the shelf in front of him, then yelps as the shift in his weight causes the chair to spin precariously.  He only just barely manages to catch his balance and not fall, then has to scoot the chair back over so he can reach for the marshmallows again.

Kaladin looks up.  “ _Ren-ren_ ,” he reports, stony-eyed and straight-faced, “would like me to inform you that your father has booked your plane tickets for your flight home in two weeks and also says please don’t be an idiot.  Dunno if he can do that, Ren-Ren.”  There’s a short pause, then Kaladin says, “Well, that’s the name that popped up on the screen when you called.  Uh, yeah, there’s a heart by it, too.”  He looks up at Adolin again.  “He says to tell you that you really _are_ lazy.”

“I _know_ that!  I’m the one who told him that,” Adolin says indignantly.  “Tell him to—“

“Hey, Renarin,” Kaladin interrupts, breezily ignoring him.  “I don’t suppose you have any embarrassing childhood stories about your brother to share, do you?”

“ _Renarin Kholin I swear if you tell him about anything but especially the thing with the unicycle I will come home and tickle you so damn hard for two weeks straight_ ,” Adolin yells, making sure the threat is loud enough to be heard from the phone.

Kaladin’s eyes glint.  “What thing with the unicycle?” he asks.  There’s a long pause, and Adolin stops groping around for the marshmallow bag to glare daggers.  Then Kaladin sighs.  “Alright, I get it, blackmail works.  I’ll just get it from him,” he says.  “Bye, Renarin.”

He hangs up and drops the phone back to Adolin’s bed, smirking ever so slightly, and Adolin feels irritation stir inside him because it isn’t fair that he gets to be handsome while trying to ferret out embarrassing stories and then looking smug about it.  “Oh, fuck you.  What’s that look for?”

“ _Ren-ren_?” Kaladin repeats, his lips twitching ever so slightly.

“What?  Don’t tell me _you_ don’t have nicknames for _your_ brother,” Adolin says defensively, leaning a bit further.  _Finally_ , he manages to snag the marshmallows and pulls away from the shelf, stepping down from the chair.

“I don’t have him named something ridiculous like ‘Ti-Ti-Heart’ in my phone, if that’s what you mean,” Kaladin snorts.  “Do you do that to everyone in your contacts?”

“…None of your business,” Adolin huffs.  He returns to the desks to pour hot water into both mugs, and breathes deeply as the aroma of rich hot chocolate rises.

“Oh, god, do you have a stupid name for me, too?”  Kaladin reaches for Adolin’s phone again, but thankfully it’s locked.  Adolin smirks.

“Guess you’ll never know,” he says, shrugging as he turns back around, stepping over to the fridge to get the whipped cream out.  Then he frowns as his phone starts to ring again.

When he turns around, he sees his damn roommate holding his own phone and peering at Adolin’s screen.  _Dammit_.  Of course he could just call and see which name showed up.  Dammit.

Kaladin slowly turns to look at him.  “ _Grumpypants McGrumpface_ ,” he repeats, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “That’s…  _That’s_ the best you could come up with?”

“It fits pretty well, as far as I’m concerned,” Adolin shoots back, crossing his arms.  “What, do you have suggestions?  Recommendations for some sort of ‘stupid name’ for yourself?”

Kaladin snorts disparagingly.  “I’m no English major,” he says with a carefree shrug, “but it seems like that name might be a _little_ bit on the redundant side.”

“That’s the point!” Adolin glares, all but throwing open the fridge to grab the whipped cream.  He squirts two hearty dollops onto the mugs, over the marshmallows, and then holds one out to his asshole of a roommate.  “Here,” he says.  “Your hot chocolate, Grumpypants.”

“You make a habit of calling me that out loud and I’ll smother you in your sleep,” Kaladin says, taking the mug.  “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

“So I can keep calling you Grumpypants McGrumpface in my phone and you won’t have a problem?”

“Never said I wouldn’t have a problem.  Just that I won’t smother you in your sleep for it.”

“Well, what would you prefer I call you then?”  Adolin would cross his arms, but his hands are wrapped around the soothing heat of his steaming hot chocolate mug, and his fingers are elated to finally be thawing.

“I have a name,” Kaladin answers.  “You can use that.”

“Ugh, you’re so _boring_ ,” Adolin sighs.  “The whole point of nicknames is to be _fun_.”

…That gives him an idea.  He picks up his phone and fiddles with it for a second, then holds it out to show Kaladin.

“There,” he pronounces.  “It’s not redundant anymore.  Are you happy now?”

Kaladin lets out a long-suffering sigh and doesn’t answer.  Adolin just grins triumphantly, sitting back and looking at the newly edited contact on the screen:  Grumpypants McBoringface.

 _Perfect_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in the tags, this is planned to be a series of more or less chronological oneshots, set in the "everything is fine and no one is dead shhhhhh" college AU. It's also eventually going to be Kadolin probably, or maybe some variant of Shakadolin, I haven't fully decided yet haha!!
> 
> Adolin has cheesy names in his phone for everyone. Not pictured are "dad-inar", "shallartsy-fartsy", and "navauntie", among others.
> 
> The world is some kind of mashup of our world and Roshar... don't question it too much I guess lol


	2. Which features bitter coffee and late nights

“I _love_ flying,” Syl says with relish, giddily almost bouncing in her seat.  Kaladin, whose much longer legs mean he’s going to be cramped, stiff, and miserable for the next few hours, rolls his eyes.

“Easy for you to say,” he says.  “But look at you.  You’re almost already flying anyway.  Feet practically off the ground.”

She sticks her tongue out.  “Well, it just sucks for you that you’re so tall, doesn’t it!”

“Yes.  It does.”  He meets her gaze with the most serious expression he can muster, and she responds by reaching over to playfully tweak his nose.

He rolls his eyes and settles back in the seat, as much as airplane seats allow one to settle back, ready for the flight to be over and to just be home already.  It’s the first time he’s gone back since arriving at university, since Kharbranth is so ridiculously far from Hearthstone; he can’t wait to see Tien again after almost five months away.

Syl is coming home with him to spend winter break with his family.  It took a bit of wheedling at her father, but since she pointed out that she lives closer to Kharbranth and goes home fairly often anyway, they got permission eventually.  That, and her father doesn’t seem to be able to say no to her, despite how stern he seems every time Kaladin talks to him.

“When are we going to _move_?” Syl complains, craning her neck to peer over Kaladin and the empty seat next to him at the aisle, then swiveling around to look out the window into the night.  “They closed the door to the terminal…”

“My guess is there’s a runway queue,” Kaladin says, following her gaze.  “We should be on the way soon, though.  You can go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we land.”

“Not sleepy yet!”  Syl shakes her head.  “You _know_ I never go to bed this early!”

“I like how you say ‘this early’ when it’s already one,” Kaladin says drolly.

Syl simply shrugs.  “We’re in college, aren’t we?”

Before he can answer, the seatbelt light above their heads dings softly and the plane jolts forward.  Syl perks up.

“ _Finally!_ ”

“We’ve been sitting here maybe ten minutes,” Kaladin points out. “Not really that long.”

Syl lightly pokes his arm as if to say  _shut up_.  “Ten minutes too long,” she says, settling back and crossing her arms as if to add finality to her statement.  He stifles a snort as the poor clip trying to hold all her hair in a messy bun atop her head finally gives up, pushed out of place by the seat back pressing against her head, and her wavy hair comes tumbling down across her face.  She blows at it, going cross-eyed for a second to stare at a piece in front of her nose, and he laughs.

Reaching over to tuck the strands behind her ear for her, Kaladin takes the opportunity to poke her cheek a few times in childish but satisfying retribution for all her nose-tweaking and arm-poking.

“I will lick your finger,” Syl warns him, and he hastily removes his hand.  She grins unrepentantly, triumphant, and he rolls his eyes.

As the plane accelerates, rushing down the runway to take off, Kaladin leans back in his seat and lets a small smile show.  He loves flying, too.  And he doesn’t get to do it that often because of how expensive airfares can get.  It’s a little thrill every time the rough sound of wheels on tar suddenly cuts out and he knows they aren’t touching the ground anymore.

Next to him, Syl’s face is glued to the window.  She watches the Kharbranth city lights grow smaller and smaller—he can see some of them, fading into the distance, around her hair.

“You know,” he comments, “you never did tell me how your dad took it when you dyed your hair.”

Last weekend, Syl decided she was done with “boring” hair and camped herself out in Kaladin’s room for a few hours while she bleached and then dyed it a light, brilliant sky blue (Adolin had holed himself up in the library and didn't return until it closed at two that morning).  It looks good on her, though it’s definitely something to get used to.

She turns around, one eyebrow raised.  “I didn’t?  Aw, I guess I totally forgot!  It was really funny, too!  I walked into the house to get my stuff to pack for now and honestly, I’d forgotten I’d done it by then, because I had kinda gotten used to having blue in my peripheral vision, and he just kind of was _staring_ at me.  Like, big horrified face.”  She pulls her best imitation of a horrorstruck father, with wide eyes and an exaggeratedly downturned mouth and hands flying up to her cheeks, and Kaladin hides a smile.  “And I didn’t know what his deal was, so I just kept walking, and then he just goes ‘Sylphrena, what did you _do?_ ’ and I thought he was gonna say you're a bad influence again, so to avoid having to listening to him blabber about how he doesn't like you which would make me mad, I told him it was an accident in chem lab.”

He can’t hide the snort of laughter, partly at the blatant lie but mostly at her rather irreverent imitation of her father.  Something in him warms at her casual acknowledgment that she cares about him enough to want to defend him from her father, but he isn't very good at talking about those things, so he just smiles at her for a second before replying.  “There's no way he believed that for a second.”

Syl has the good grace to at least look slightly abashed.  “He might have,” she says, not quite sheepish but something near it.  “I, uh, didn’t stick around to clarify.  He was still doing the horrified face when I ran upstairs because I didn’t wanna laugh at him and ruin it.”

Kaladin snickers, just a little.  “Incredible.  You got out of getting yelled at for nearly giving him a heart attack from shock by making him wonder if he needs to sue the university because of what they do in sophomore chemistry labs.”

“Basically.”  She grins wryly, then lays her arm atop his on the armrest and returns to gazing out the window at Kharbranth's fading lights.

An hour or two later finds her asleep against his shoulder, lulled by the muted roar of the engines and the thin blanket they both share (Kaladin thanks the Almighty for her foresight in packing it—planes are always a bit chilly).  It’s a red-eye flight, and they’ll be landing around five in the morning, local time; Lirin will be there to pick them up.  Tien said on the phone that he would come, too, but Kaladin won’t be surprised if they land and Lirin is waiting for them alone—Hearthstone is a bit over an hour’s drive from the airport, and three-thirty is pretty early to ask a sixteen-year-old to wake up.  Though it would be _nice_ to see his brother sooner than later…

Kaladin sighs, leans his cheek against Syl’s head, and closes his eyes.  He might as well try to get _some_ sleep tonight…

* * *

“That," Syl informs him, "smells like the most bitter, disgusting way to die I could ever think of."  Her nose is wrinkled in distaste as she regards the very, very full cup of steaming black coffee (no cream, no sugar) in his hand.  Kaladin shrugs, carefully so he doesn't spill it.

“It was the cheapest coffee on the menu, and I don’t want to fall asleep on my feet.”

“Bitter, disgusting, death,” she reiterates, stifling a yawn, then huffs out a defeated sigh.  “Can I have a sip?”

Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s five in the morning and that he’s trying to function on merely two or less hours of sleep plus the coffee in his hand, but that’s damn _hilarious_ and he nearly spills the coffee on both of them when he laughs.  “Well,” he says, echoing her words from the plane, “we _are_ in college.”

“Don’t use my own stereotyping of college students against me while I’m asking to suffer,” she reprimands, still dolefully eyeing the coffee.  Kaladin snorts as he hands her the cup.

“Don’t burn yourself,” he cautions, probably unnecessarily because it’s steaming, but since it’s five in the morning and they are college students (which is just another way of saying “a mess”), he figures the warning can’t hurt. “It’s hot.”

“Thanks, I don’t have eyes or nerves in my fingers to figure that out,” she retorts lightly, no bite in her words.  She blows on the coffee and then takes a sip gingerly, immediately making a face. “Augh, that’s _awful_!  Okay, the absolute _grossness_ is going to keep me awake if nothing else!”

Kaladin grins.  “At least it’s hot,” he points out, accepting the cup when she thrusts it at him and knocking back a swig himself.   _Damn.  That is pretty bitter._  “C’mon, my dad’s probably here already.  Hell, knowing him he was here half an hour ago.”

The two of them sling their backpacks back over their shoulders, pushing away from the café table they’d momentarily claimed.  They (along with a few others who disembarked from the same flight) were the first customers of the day; Kaladin just counts them lucky that the place was even _open_.  He presses a lid on his coffee and leans down and grabs Syl’s duffel bag, too, despite her protests.

“I can carry it myself, you’re already carrying your gross--your _yuck_ potion in one hand!”  She tries to grab the bag from him, but he draws on energy he’s sure he only saves for instances when he gets to annoy her, and hefts it up above her head.  He nearly splashes the coffee in the process, but somehow manages to keep it from getting on his hand while still holding the bag out of reach.  _So much for the advantages of being short, huh?_

“You can just open every door we run into for me,” he suggests as sweetly as he can.  Admittedly, that isn't very sweet, but it seems to do the trick because Syl stares at him incredulously, then very exaggeratedly rolls her eyes.

“Fiiiine, mister noble hero.  Oh, hey, that’s got some sort of ring to it!  Maybe I should make that your name in my phone…”

He groans theatrically, letting the bag fall back down to his side as he starts walking.  Syl falls into step at his side. “Please, no.  Adolin is bad enough as it is, don’t you join him in this stupid… naming… thing.”

“Really?”  She blinks curiously, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What’s your name in his phone?”

“I’m not telling,” he says immediately.

“I know where you’re ticklish,” she threatens idly.

Kaladin is unfazed.  “I’m carrying boiling hot bean juice in one hand and your stuff in the other.  But sure, if you think that’s a good idea.”

“Boo, I hate it when you have a point,” Syl sighs.  “Alright, I’ll just do this the other easy way.”

She pulls out her phone and Kaladin frowns.  “Oh no.  You’re not texting him, don’t you dare—“

Unfortunately, thanks to his own “noble hero” traits, both his hands are full and he can’t do much more than bumping into her with her own bag, which he does.  It doesn’t stop her—it takes much more than that to stop Sylphrena the Menace once she gets started—but at least he… he tried.  He made an effort, dammit, and it counts for absolutely nothing, but at least he tried.

“Too bad he’s asleep and I won’t get to know til tomorrow—I mean later today,” Syl says with a resigned sigh.  “No instant gratifica—huh?”

Her phone buzzes in her hand as she is putting it in her pocket, the screen lighting up with an unread message.  Kaladin sighs deeply.  Of _course_ his goddamn roommate isn’t asleep yet.  Even though it's five in the morning.  Of course.

Syl lets out a peal of laughter.  “ _Grumpypants McBoringface_?” she repeats, eyes dancing with merriment as she looks up at him.  “Oh my god, that’s… that’s…”

“Stupid?  And kind of rude?  Unnecessary?  Ridiculous?  Absolutely—“

“That’s _brilliant!_ ”  She bursts into laughter again.  “Grumpypants!  I love it!  Oh my god, Kaladin, you should see the look on your face!  This is priceless!”

Kaladin eyes her, trying to look as disappointed as he can.  “Syl, no.”

“Syl _yes_ ,” she corrects, tapping the screen rapidly again.  Oh, great, she’s texting Adolin back.  “Hah, he wants to know why we’re awake.  Airports, buddy.  Airports.”

“Why’s _he_ awake?” Kaladin asks, only because he’s curious and not because he’s actually concerned or anything.  Just curious.

“Good question!  I’ll ask him.”  A moment later, she snorts with laughter again.  “Oh my god.  Kaladin, your roommate is a dork.  He says, and I quote, ‘Renarin beat my record time on Rainbow Road and I have to take him down, but I’m out of practice and he keeps laughing at me’.  What a _dork!_ ”

“Hm,” Kaladin replies, suddenly concerned as to whether Tien has managed the same.  He’ll have to check when he gets home.  “Yeah.  He totally is.”

Syl looks at him knowingly, but remarkably doesn't come back with a quip about his own Mario skills.  Just as he thinks she’s about to speak, they reach the exit of the secured part of the airport and the entryway where Lirin is mostly likely already waiting.  Belatedly, Kaladin remembers he can check his own phone and find out if his father has messaged him yet.  Then it occurs to him that he actually _can’t_ , not with coffee in one hand and Syl’s duffel bag in the other.

He and Syl walk to the nearest door, peering around.  Kaladin is about to ask her to dig around in his pocket and get his phone out when suddenly—

“Kaladin!”

_Tien!_

He swivels about on his heel, just in time for his little brother to collide with him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.  Dropping Syl’s bag as gently as one can drop a bag, he hugs Tien back, an easy smile spreading across his face.  For a long moment, he’s content to just stand there and ignore everything else, but then Tien lifts his head from his shoulder and looks up at him with a big happy grin.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” he beams.  “I missed you!”

Kaladin ruffles his hair affectionately, his other arm still wrapped around Tien despite the coffee in his hand.  “I missed you, too,” he says, smiling.  "I'm glad you came to meet us, sleepyhead."

Tien looks almost indignant.  Or, well, as close to indignant as Tien ever seems to get, given that he smiles so much more than he frowns.  Even now, his lips are twitching into a little smile, though it looks more tired than it should.  "What, did you think I would sleep in and miss the chance to pester Syl for funny stories that you haven't told me yet all the way home?"

"I have plenty of those," Syl pipes up.  Kaladin gives her a dirty look.  Then, resting his hand on Tien’s shoulder, he offers the closest thing to an introduction they're going to get out of him at the moment. 

“Ti, that's Syl.  Syl, Tien.”

Syl is beaming at Tien with wide, star-struck eyes.  She glances up at Kaladin and stage-whispers, “He’s so _cute_!  You didn’t tell me he was _this_ cute!  Can I keep him?”

Kaladin firmly plants a hand on Tien’s head.  “No.”

Tien ducks his head, a bit self-conscious and shy, but he’s still grinning broadly.  “I like your hair,” he tells Syl.  “And I’m glad to finally get to meet you!  I’ve heard a lot.”

“Oh no,” Syl says lightly, looking up to Kaladin again.  “How much has he slandered my name?”

“Would I ever slander your name,” Kaladin deadpans.  “Whatever I’ve told Tien is nothing but the truth.”  He looks down at Tien, scrunches his hand through those dark curls fondly, and asks, “Wasn’t I right when I said she’s pretty?”

Syl blinks, then gasps in affected shock. “Am I hallucinating from lack of sleep?  Or was that a genuine compliment?”

“I give genuine compliments,” Kaladin frowns.  He takes a gulp of coffee, and both Syl and Tien make faces.

“Ew,” Tien says.  “I can smell the bitterness.”

Syl is suddenly beaming. “Oh, I _like_ this kid!” she says, looping an arm about Tien’s shoulders.  “We’re gonna get along great, I can tell.  Are you _sure_ I can’t keep him?”

“Quite,” Kaladin assures her.  “I have dibs.”

Tien laughs, then wraps an arm about Kaladin’s waist again, giving him another quick hug before he steps away and scoops up Syl’s bag, hefting it over his shoulder and waving off both of their protests.  Syl shakes her head, rolling her eyes, and mutters something about stupidly courteous dummies, and Kaladin bumps her hip as Tien takes his free hand. “Father sent me in to get you two,” he says, tugging Kaladin toward the door.  “He’s waiting in the car outside, going around the drop-off line so we don’t have to pay for a parking pass.”

“Oh, right.”  Kaladin could smack himself for forgetting that he should have led Syl to wait outside.  Good thing Tien came to get them, then.

They pile into Lirin’s minivan a few minutes later.  Kaladin lets Syl have the shotgun seat and therefore control over the music, wanting to sit in the back with Tien, who leans against him and wrinkles his nose and tells him he smells like coffee.

“Thanks, Ti,” he says dryly, wrapping his arm around Tien’s shoulders.  “I’m a bit sleep deprived.”

“Caffeine is not a substitute for sleep,” Lirin says wearily, and Kaladin almost laughs because they’ve had this conversation before and it’s always the same.  Father encourages him to be healthy but then admits he was much the same in his own university years.  "Caffeine is a terrible substitute for sleep."

Syl laughs brightly.  “Oh, come on, Kala-dad,” she says lightly, “don’t you know?  It is when you’re a student!”

In the rearview mirror, Kaladin sees his father’s lips twitch.  “Kaladad?” he repeats dryly.

“I don’t know why I just said that,” Syl admits, her cheeks slightly pink.  Kaladin tries not to snort. “I might be sleepier than I thought.  But I shouldn't be.  I mean, I had some coffee, too.”

“You had one _sip_ of coffee.  And complained all the while.  That doesn’t really count.”

“Yuck,” Tien shakes his head.  “Coffee is gross.  It’s too bitter for me.”

“Just wait,” Syl says a bit ominously.  “I still hate it, but during finals week… yuck is right.”

Tien shakes his head again, tucking his legs under himself and getting cozy.  He yawns, and Kaladin nudges him gently.

“What time did you wake up to get here, three?”

“He didn’t,” Lirin says pointedly, in that tone of voice that Kaladin knows as a not-quite-reprimand(usually because he's already issued the reprimand).

Tien blinks, then grins sheepishly.  He rubs the back of his head. “I, um, just stayed up.”

“Oh!  So you pulled an all-nighter too!” Syl exclaims.  “Just like us.  Look at you go!”  She twists around in the seat, tugging at her seatbelt so she can face Tien as she gives him a bright grin and a thumbs-up.

Kaladin, meanwhile, just looks at his brother.  Then he moves the seatbelt aside and smushes Tien sideways until his curly head rests on Kaladin’s thigh.  “Go to sleep,” he says.  “Otherwise you’ll fall asleep at the table when we have breakfast and I can’t be held responsible if Mom gets mad at you.  Or if _someone_ —“ he looks pointedly at Syl, who immediately puts on her most innocent expression—“decides she wants to practice her marker skills.”

“That was only twice!” she protests.

“Only twice,” he repeats.

“You drew on Kal’s face?” Tien asks curiously, starting to sit up before Kaladin pokes his cheek and frowns down at him.

“Yes, and I have pictures,” Syl grins.  “I can show you when we get to your place!”

Tien beams. “Don’t let me forget!  I gotta see them!”

“You really don’t have to,” Kaladin says.  “She drew a moustache on my roommate.  That was funnier by far, let me tell you.”  Especially because Adolin had blearily stumbled to his eight-in-the-morning first class of the day without realizing there was a spiral moustache in blue marker on his face.  Kaladin had been hard pressed to hold in his laughter when his roommate got back around nine and he realized Adolin hadn't noticed Syl's handiwork yet.

He starts stroking his fingers through Tien’s hair.  Tien closes his eyes, succumbing to tiredness, a little smile on his face.  “I'll just look at all of the pictures then,” he mumbles.  Kaladin chuckles lightly, overcome for a moment with fondness for his little brother.

“Alright, whatever makes you happy.”

Tien shifts, making himself a bit more comfortable.  For a moment, Kaladin thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then he opens one eye to peep up at him.  “By the way, Kal,” he says, “I got past that level you couldn't beat in Super Mario World.”

_Dammit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ended up being friend and family fluff, but I still want to point out that Adolin is playing Mariokart at five in the morning. Syl and Kaladin don't know, but he's also eating a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. When asked why he is doing this, he will answer because he has lost control of his life and it's Renarin's fault.
> 
> (As a younger sister who was left alone at home when her older sister left for university, I can confirm that breaking those Big Sibling records on all the games you own is very satisfying.)


End file.
